


Post Love

by acoolgirl



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, F/M, Pen Pals, Politics, World War II, letter writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-11 02:04:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12925014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acoolgirl/pseuds/acoolgirl
Summary: Madge and Gale's lives are changed forever when they're both matched to each other in a soldier outreach program organized by the University of Pennsylvania. Complete.





	1. Opening

Gale knows it's wretched to think so, but he wishes it was his leg, not dough boy’s that got blown off.

Truthfully, in the end, it doesn’t even matter that Mellark gets shipped home before him- he had already won Katniss’s heart if her lengthy letters to baker boy and two-liners to him were any indications.

Still, he sulks, lazing in his cot as his battalion waits for the orders that’ll ship them from the French countryside and into some action where he’ll be able to shoot some fascists again.

“You still dilly-dallying?” Thom, his best mate asks, lifting up the tent flap and coming in. He’s holding a stack of envelopes in his hand. Gale had forgotten today was mail day, especially since Katniss had stopped writing. He’ll just pick up his mail later.

“Shut up,” is all Gale says as he closes his eyes again. He isn’t in the mood for Thom’s tomfoolery.

“Aww, c’mon Gailey,” Thom pesters, using that fucking annoying nickname again. “You don’t even wanna read this letter a broad wrote for you?”

Gale’s eyes fly open. Katniss had written?!

“Gimme that,” Gale growls, reaching over to snatch the letters from Thom.

“Hey!” Thom exclaims. “Some of those are mine, give ‘em back!”

After finally getting the letters sorted, Gale flips through his envelopes. One from Ma, as expected. He knew from past letters that his little sister Posy will have included a picture in the letter since she couldn’t write yet. He kept all her pictures in his uniform pocket, right above his heart.

Then there was one from Vick and Rory. The punks liked to write by alternating lines, so it was as if he was reading a conversation transcript of the two. He’d never admitted it, but it was damn entertaining and made him miss his fool brothers fiercely.

The third letter, however, was addressed to him from an address all the way out in _Philadelphia_?

“Zoooo wee!” Thom whistles, reading over his shoulder. “How come you never told me you got a broad in Philly? Heard the girls up there love sharin’ the crop, if you know what I mean.”

“One day, you’ll mouth off to General Abernathy, and I’ll be part of the firing squad when you’re court martialed,” Gale snaps, shoving Thom away as he tries to lunge for the letter to pry it from Gale.

“Stick in the mud,” Thom mutters, going back to his letters. Gale scoffs when Thom immediately brightens as he pulls out a picture his girlfriend Delly had sent him. He isn’t sure he’s ever met a man more doll dizzy than Thom.

Thoroughly curious, Gale quickly opens the envelope and pulls out pages of a letter, which are littered with censor holes.

Quickly unfolding the shrunk down v-mail, Gale’s imagination runs wildly as he wonders who wrote _what_ to him. None of his letters have been censored before.

_Dear Mr. Hawthorne,_

_I hope this letter reaches you in good health and high spirits. My university started an outreach program called the Compassion Project, which matches you to soldiers abroad so that you can send them letters to, hopefully, make fighting a war, if just slightly, more bearable._

_If you’re still reading, that must mean you aren’t totally turned away from the idea of establishing a correspondence with a stranger, so I suppose I’ll talk a little about myself._

_My name is Margaret Undersee, but everyone calls me Madge. In fact, I’m pretty sure apart from my Daddy, everyone thinks Madge_ is _my name. I was studying Musical Arts at the University of Pennsylvania, but found myself growing more and more dissatisfied with the course my life was going on. Could I truly be at peace with myself, frivolously playing the piano while brave young men laid down their lives elsewhere? So I went and enlisted in the Army Nurse Corps, and will hopefully be sent over soon. Who knows, maybe we could even meet?_

_What else.... I’ve already told you I play the piano. It’s something I hope to continue to do once the War is over. Maybe teach young children how to play. I haven’t any siblings, though I wish I did. At the very least, an older brother. Let’s see...my Mother died when I was very young, so I haven’t much to share about her other than I still miss her very much so. My Daddy owns a factory that now only produces Airplane Propellers, instead of its original Auto Body parts._

Gale has to stop reading for a moment to let the information sink in. Back home, before he had enlisted, he had worked as a mechanic. And now here was, reading a letter written to him by the daughter of a _factory owner._ He wants to crumple up the paper and be indignant that he’s wasted his time reading something by a spoiled rich girl, but her first paragraph has already proven to him she isn’t some airheaded priss, not if she actually means to come out here and risk her life to nurse soldiers back to health.

_I realize now that it may seem like I’m boasting Daddy’s wealth, but I urge you not to think that way. In fact, since the war has begun, I see now that-_

The rest of her next paragraph is completely censored by a flurry of angry clippings, silencing her observations. Gale is desperately curious to know what she had written. It obviously had quite some merit to it, for it to be completely censored. Unable to look away, he continues to read.

 _But in the end, it doesn’t matter, does it? You’re there now, and the Axis powers_ must _be stopped, regardless of why we joined in the first place. Global fascism, anti-semitism, and imperialism have no place in this world, not anymore._

_Oh dear, this was supposed to be a light-hearted letter! Here’s something for you to chew on: What’s lighter than a feather, but the strongest man in the world cannot hold it for longer than a minute?_

_If riddles bore you, feel free to ignore what I just wrote._

_We were instructed to write about day-to-day drama and politics to help you feel more connected to home, but I wasn’t told where you’re from, so I’m not sure how much the street shenanigans of Philadelphia will entertain you. In regards to politics, things are...in a flurry. We’ve always been a city renowned for its industries, but the war has expanded our industries tenfold, which has gratefully brought back many jobs to the previously greatly suffering working class. As I watch the city hustle in great fervor to meet quotas and makes sure our men out fighting are properly supplied, it fills me with relief to see the number of street urchins and despondent elderly have greatly reduced. As the popular saying goes, even if you’re not abroad, there’s still a war to be fought._

Suffering working class. He had been a part of that, hadn’t he? Maybe he was still a part of it. He pushes down his anger at her pity, it’s not like she knows he’s dirt poor. Yet.

_Well, this went on much longer than I thought it would. I do hope you write back, Mr. Hawthorne, though I’ll understand if you choose not to. I wish you all the best, and hope you return to your loved ones with a healthy body and content spirit._

_Cordially,_

_Madge Undersee_

_P.S_

_Scalp some Nazis!_

Gale laughs out loud as he reads the last line of her letter, he can’t help it. He’s already formed the image of a docile, dressed up girl with soft hands that play piano in his mind, and the mental image of her urging him to _scalp_ Nazis is beyond hilarious.

“Who’s it frooom,” Thom whines from his cot, kicking his legs up in the air like a toddler.

“It’s some compassion project,” Gale tells him. “I was matched with a stranger to be pen pals or something.”

“Wow,” Thom remarks. “To think, everyone knows how big of a loser you are, they had to set you up with some rando so you could feel like you have friends.”

“Keep it up and I won’t need a court martial order to shoot you,” Gale says, as he gets off his desk to the small desk in the corner, pulling out some loose leaf and a pen that’s running low on ink. He considers what he knows: she's a university going student that's young enough to still enlist as a nurse. She didn't mention a husband or kids, but there might be a sweetheart. Actually,  _of course_ there has to be a sweetheart, every rich young dame has one. Still, he writes  _Miss_ confidently.

_Miss. Undersee,_

_Thanks for writing. I have friends and family that write, but it’s always interesting to hear about things from other people_

This is a lie. He really only has two friends, and one of them is behind him, looking at a dirty magazine, and the other is probably getting married to a baker, and has completely forgotten about him. But she doesn’t need to know that.

_So you want to be a nurse? The nurses here are ok, but are really stingy. You seemed nice enough from your letter- try to keep up that attitude when you’re tending to wounded soldiers, it really does help._

_Is your sweetheart here in Europe? I imagine he’d be very happy to see you again. Or not.  I wouldn’t want my girl out here where you can die at any moment. It’s awfully brave of you to throw away your easy life to go halfway across the globe to an inescapable warzone.  Maybe we will meet, though I hope we don’t, since I want to go home ASAP._

He tries to imagine a spoiled little girl in the trenches beside him. It's so laughable, he can't.

_I’m from a town in West Virginia so small it doesn’t even show up on the map, but it’s interesting to hear about Philly’s politics. Every since my Pa died down in the mines, I’ve wanted nothing more to get out of that Godforsaken place. My dream is to go home to my Ma and three younger siblings and whisk them off to somewhere like Philly with the money I’ve made from the army._

_Would you recommend Philly as a good place to raise a family? I want my sibling's plenty of space to run and grow, but I’m not sure if a city is the best place for that._

_I have to say, Miss. Undersee, I haven’t scalped any Nazis. Yet. I’ve shot plenty, though, if that’s any consolation. But the satisfaction of killing those bastards wanes after a while, war just has that effect on a man. There’s only so much death and gore you can see before it’s too much. And I’ve seen plenty._

He has to close his eyes for a moment to fight off the onslaught of loud memories of his fellow soldiers dying violently beside him. He shakes his head. This is a war. This is a war.

_I have to say, an entire paragraph of your letter was blotted out. I won’t say which, but I’m sure you know which one I’m referring to. For your own safety, you should consider your words more carefully, even though I’m awfully curious to know what you were talking about._

Gale re-reads what he’s written, and hopes she gets his message: continue writing what she wrote, but be more covert about it.

_If your Daddy decides to let you write back to a lowly mechanic, I’d be mighty interested in more of the politics of what’s going on back home. Ma doesn’t pay any attention to all that, and the kids are too young._

The line is bitter, but he can’t help it. He can’t just push aside the fact that he’s out here fighting for his life so he can go back and give his family a better chance at life, while she was born with a golden spoon in her mouth.

_-Gale Hawthorne_

_P.S_

_Is it a breath?_

He puts his letter aside to open his Ma’s. He’ll mail it out, but he’s almost certain he won’t hear a response from Miss. Madge Undersee.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Black and White

Gale can’t help it, he’s been dying to know what Madge had written that had been censored out, so when they do a mail call during the middle of dinner, Gale shoves his half-eaten tray towards Thom and quickly takes his letters back to his tent.

_Dear Mr. Hawthorne,_

_Thank_ you _for writing back. I have to admit, I was almost childishly excited when I saw a letter mailed to me from_

Her next words are cut out. Gale can’t help but roll his eyes. Amateur.

_I’ll keep your advice in mind, and be as nice as I can to any soldier I treat. Though I do have to say, we’re told over and over again to not get too friendly with the men, lest they get the wrong idea, and more or less told to act as if we haven’t any emotions. I’ll try to find a healthy balance._

_I haven’t a sweetheart at the moment, but even if I was romantically involved with someone, it wouldn’t be with someone who’d want to stop me from pursuing my dreams._

Gale frowns both at the fact that she doesn’t have a sweetheart, and that she was most probably taking a jab at him. She must be hideous or something. And stupid, to think Gale wouldn’t want his girl with him because he didn’t “support” her dream.

If that’s the case, _I hope we_ don’t _see each other, and that you’re sent home very soon. Three siblings! That sounds wonderful. It’s clear you love them very much, they’re very lucky to have an older brother like you. And your Mother,  this must be very hard on her, to send her eldest son off to battle. I was very sorry to read about your Father’s untimely death. To lose a parent as a child, is in some way, like losing a limb; you grow up, but not completely._

Gale swallows tightly as he reread her last line once more. That’s exactly what it was like. Losing his Pa was like losing his left hand, and every time he’s forced to use his right, he remembers him.

_I hope you don’t find me too forward, but how old are you? It sounded as if you were rather young when your Father passed, and I’m trying to imagine how young you were when you suddenly had to become the head of the household. The fact that you’re in Europe somewhere, at great risk to yourself, proves you take your responsibility very seriously. I know we’ve never met, but I can’t help but wish you didn’t have such a burden on your shoulders._

_To answer your question: Philadelphia is a nice place to raise a family if you want a family raised in the city. Now, I know that sounds rather cryptic, but I do have a point. I’m not sure how many cities you’ve been to, but as I said, Philadelphia is loud, a bit dirty, and always bustling. Children_ do _play on the street, but they’re more often than not dirty and have to dodge automobiles while they run after their balls. The public schooling leaves something to be desired after to as well, though I suppose that could be a nationwide issue in regards to funding. I live in the suburbs of Philadelphia, which can be as close as 30 minutes away from the city. It’s nice, but there’s a kind of mundanity and..._ blandness _to the suburbs, that it drives a person near crazy. At least it does to me. My personal opinion is the best place to raise a family is somewhere in an open country, where they can get fresh air, and all the townsfolk know one another. Then again, that may just be exactly what you want to escape from, in which case, I’d say, yes, move to Philadelphia. It is, after all, the city of “Brotherly Love”, and you see that clearly in how its citizens treat one another. We were founded by the Quakers, after all, who were rather nice folks._

Gale _had_ said that he wanted to escape from Panem, but truthfully, the vision she painted, of a large farmhouse and a cozy town was what he wanted to. Panem, with its jagged mountain terrain, and hardened citizens didn’t hold the same nostalgia his dream Town held.

_My, I hope my long-winded rant didn’t bore you to tears. While we’re on the subject of tears, I do have to say, Mr. Hawthorne, I was rather hurt at your implication that either my Daddy or I would think any differently of you due to your occupation, but then I remembered a critical part of my letter was cut out. No point in going backward, is there?_

_Do you remember learning about the Civil War in school?_

Gale frowns. That’s a rather ironic placement, saying there’s no point going backward, and then immediately talking about a war that ended 80 years ago. Unless….she had gotten his message, and was talking in code.

_Up here in “Yankee Territory” we’re taught one thing: The North fought in the war to liberate the slaves in the South. Personal research has taught me differently. Funny, isn’t it, how we think one thing as children, only to realize it’s something totally different as adults?_

Gale reads quicker, trying to figure out what she’s trying to say, and how it connects to the present.

_The North as a whole didn’t really have any qualms about the morality of slavery, no, the reason why they wanted its abolition was their greed for more industrialization, whereas the South wished to remain agrarian. Thus the war._

_Money. Money Money Money. To what limit will man go to for money? One second they’re an enemy, and the next, an ally- all if money is involved._

Gale instantly knows what she’s talking about in that particular sentence. The beginning of the war, the U.S had distinctly labeled the Soviets as the enemy, and now here they were, practically doing the U.S’s job of defeating the Nazis, if Stalingrad was any indication. What was Madge saying, that the U.S was only in the war for economic reasons?

Everyone knew that the war had brought the country out of the Great Depression, but that wasn’t a bad thing, right? Gale reconsiders his thought. Making money off the death of innocent civilians in another country. Maybe things weren’t as black and white as he thought, but the fact remained, the U.S only entered the war _after_ the Japs attacked Pearl Harbor. _That_ wasn’t for money. Still, he reads on, desperate to read more on what she’s thought.

_So, as you can see, I hold a rather large disdain towards money. At least, large quantities of it. It only brings out the evil that lurks within man. I’m blessed that Daddy has a wonderful heart; he not only treats his workers with the utmost respect and integrity, but his wages are some of the highest in the city. Other businessmen scoff at his philanthropy, saying he’ll go out of business before Paris is liberated. If he does, I’ll go into poverty with dignity, knowing Daddy went down doing the right thing._

Gale can’t even find himself to be upset that she stopped writing about the war. Her words are so heartfelt, he can’t help but wish she was here, so he could listen as she spoke these kind words. Maybe he misjudged her. Sure, her Daddy had some money, but if she was writing the truth, she wasn’t a spoiled brat.

_I’ll tell you more about Philly’s politics in my next letter, since this one is long enough as it is. By the way, you guessed my riddle right! I’ll have to find a harder one next time. I do have an idea for another game. Could you give me three hints about your hometown, maybe like size, proximity to a local landmark, etc., and I can try to guess it? Daddy has a map with every rail-line in the country, and I’m confident I can find your town on it if I try hard enough._

_Waiting for a hasty reply,_

_Madge Undersee_

_P.S_

_If you can’t scalp, I suppose shooting works too. Keep up the good work, soldier._

Dinner isn’t over yet, so he heads over to where the jeeps are parked, hoping their camp mechanic is in his usual spot.

Beetee Latier was a genius, every Goddamn man in the camp knew that, but here he was, stuck doing oil changes on army jeeps, instead of creating new airplane schematics, because his skin was as dark as the oil he drained.

Gale is still angry at the racism that plagues the States, when he finds Beetee, sitting in one one of the jeeps, eating his dinner. That was another thing about Beetee, as smart as he was, he was also a bit...eccentric, preferring usually to be totally alone. Gale wasn’t sure if he was afraid of any bigotry he may encounter or because he just genuinely liked being alone, so he was a bit nervous when he cleared his throat.

Immediately, Beetee looks up from his meal, eyes alert as he takes Gale in.

“Yes?” he asks, raising a brow over his thick glasses.

“I was wondering if I could ask you a question,” Gale says, a bit awkwardly. “But I didn’t mean to interrupt your dinner. I’ll just go.”

“No!” Beetee shouts, startling Gale. “Stay.”

“Uh, ok,” Gale says with a slightly confused smile. “Mind if I hop in?”

“Be my guest,” Beetee says, gesturing to the passenger seat beside him.

“What is it you’d like to know?” he asks, once Gale is settled in.

“Why did the U.S enter the war,” Gale says bluntly, looking at Beetee directly. Beetee, on his part, does not look surprised at the nature of the question, and only nods.

“The Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor,” Beetee answers easily, watching Gale closely.

“I know that,” Gale says frustratedly. “But is there a, I don’t know, economic motivation?”

“Do you know what the proper name of the Nazi party is?” Beetee asks suddenly, resuming eating his dinner.

“No,” Gale says gruffly. He hates not knowing answers to questions he’s asked.

“The National Socialist Workers Party,” Beetee tells him, around a mouthful of food.

“So?” Gale asks, still peeved he hadn’t known.

“We’re told, over and over again, that we’re fighting Nazis to save the Jewish people, and every other persons the Nazis are after,” Beete begins, looking out his window. “And the truth is, most men here _are_ fighting for that very reason. And it’s a very noble reason indeed, no doubt. But did you know, that when the Nazis first came into power, the U.S, and every other country for that matter, hardly paid any attention to the atrocities they were committing within their country? It was only when the Nazis began their invasions did the rest of Europe pick up arms. In fact, before that, the U.S maintained business ties with Germany.”

“We didn’t intervene earlier because we were in a Depression!” Gale argues, remembering with a shudder how his family had barely survived the dirty 30’s, especially with Pa’s death in ‘39.

“But don’t we know now that a war would have just jump started our economy?” Beetee asks rhetorically. “America is fighting a lot of things in this war, but have no doubt, that an economic system is one of them.”

“But we’re allied up with the commies,” Gale points out, as he tries to follow along. “And they’re everything we hate!”

“And mark my words,” Beetee says quietly. “As soon as the Nazis are defeated, the USSR and U.S.A will turn against each other. All in the name of economic theory. We aren’t villains in this war, but we certainly aren’t angels either.”

Gale’s head is spinning. He had always known the U.S had its fair share of problems, racism and wealth inequality two huge ones he could name off the bat, but he had always thought of them to be….ideologically pure within the context of this war.

Suddenly, he’s enraged. Is Madge fucking with him? Trying to get him confused, so he defects? Maybe she’s a commie spy, sent in to infiltrate and create dissent within the ranks!

“It’s hard,” Beetee sighs. “When you learn that the world isn’t black and white.”

“When did you learn this?” Gale asks, curious to know where the man beside him got his wisdom.

Beetee laughs, deep and from within his belly. “I learned when I was born, there’s only white and white. You gotta throw in your black to get some gray, and that's where you find color.”

* * *

_Undersee,_

_Is this a game? Why tell me all this bullshit? Don’t you know I’m out here fighting for this Country?_

_Don’t write again if all you want to do is demoralize me. I have enough to deal with, your twisted words aside._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray for historical politics! Also, in case it isn't clear, but Madge and I are pro-US actions (most of them) in WWll, Madge is just pointing this all for a very specific reason, which we'll see next chapter.


	3. A Short Life

After a full day of walking, they’re finally allowed some rest.

The entire battalion is miserable; their location had been compromised by enemy planes the night before, and they were forced to undergo an emergency evacuation. Gale can still hear their loud engines swooping in from above.

It doesn’t help that with every minute, the temperature seems to drop another degree, and the icy drizzle that’s been falling since morning won’t relent. He isn’t sure he’s ever felt more tired or cold in his entire life. His body is practically begging to just give up.

General says the clouds are a good thing, they provide cover, but when Gale and a group of guys huddle around a fire in a ditch made by a bomb, he can’t help but curse them. He’s miserable, in every sense of the word.

“Fuck!” Cato curses, as his shaking fingers are unable to open a can of ration beans. “Fuck France and it’s fucking weather!”

“Amen,” Marvel says bitterly, scotting closer to the fire, that’s having a hard time staying alive with the rain that manages to come past the tarp they’ve set above them.

“At least we’re still alive,” Thom points, only to be silenced when the other two men glare at him. Gale just closes his eyes and wills some heat back into his exhausted muscles. His head is already aching with the promise of a cold, and with soldiers around every corner, waiting to kill him, he needs his body to be at its prime. Anything less will mean death.

“Damn Nazis,” Cato seethes as he throws the can away from him in defeat. “Why’d they even come to power, anyways?”

“Money,” Marvel answers.

Wait.

Gale’s eyes fly open. Marvel’s Dad is a lawyer back home, and when he’s not being a total asshole, knows what he’s talking about. “World War One shat all over their economy. People were desperate, and the Nazis took advantage of that. Jews are an easy target, you know?”

“It only brings out the evil that lurks within man,” Gale repeats, almost in awe. At everyone’s confused looks, he quickly adds. “Money, I mean.”

“Isn’t that why you’re here, coal miner redneck?” Cato asks cruelly. “So your 12 siblings have enough money to eat something other than dirt?”

Had Gale’s body not been moments away from giving up completely, and there wasn’t a fire between them, Gale would have leapt across the distance and beaten Cato to death.

“Watch your back,” Gale mutters darkly. “Out here there’s no way to prove who shot who.”

“Ok!” Thom cuts in loudly, trying to deescalate the situation. This isn’t the first time Cato and Gale have butt heads, but it could always be the last. “Cato, hand me the can, I think I can pry it with my knife.”

As the conversation moves on, Gale let’s his mind go back to what was being said earlier. Money. In the back of his mind, he had known that the Nazis come into power because post-war Germany’s economy was abysmal, but for some Godforsaken reason, his thickhead hadn’t been able to connect that to what Madge was writing.

Madge. His already aching body feels even worse as guilt consumes him. She had never written back after he had sent his hateful letter, and he couldn’t blame her, not when he realizes that she had been warning him against the very thing Cato had pointed out.

He was only here for the money. He had said he wanted to go home as soon as possible, but Gale had been given the choice to go back a few months ago, but he had turned it down, all while envisioning the hefty check Ma was getting each month on his name. He had subconsciously accepted that he would be here till the war ended, or he died, whichever came first, all to maximize the benefits his family could reap from the bullets he had sown.

She had been warning him of _his_ greed- not any other countries, but his own! And he had been totally blind to it, and now she probably hates him and wishes he was dead.

The agonizing night only grows more miserable after that.

* * *

“Thom!” Gale shouts in panic. “Over here!”

They had come across a small town, which upon closer inspection had been totally deserted. Elated at their stroke of good luck, the battalion had made quick work to set up camp there.

In war, it’s never that easy.

The Nazis must have set it up as a trap, knowing they were coming, because as soon as night fell- they attacked.

“Hurry up!” Gale shouts once Thom reaches the door of the house he’s standing in. As soon as he’s in, Gale grabs a nearby chair to barricade the door.

“We need to move upstairs, get to higher ground!” Thom says, breathless from running.

Gale nods. “Go!”

Gale tries not to think of how many men had died just 20 minutes ago. Even Cato, who he had threatened to kill himself just a few days ago, the memory of his lifeless face makes Gale’s legs shake.

Thom flings open a bedroom window, but before they can rush to the nearest window, both are thrown backward from the shock of a mortar shell exploding.

The shell had been aimed at the house next to the one they were in. It was dumb luck they were still alive.

Shoving off debris that had fallen on him from the roof that now gaped a huge hole, Gale crawls to the shattered window, ignoring how the fallen glass cuts into his skin, and glances outside. There are several Nazis running down the street, one of them with a Mortar. Gale silently raises his MP40 and aims as carefully as he can. He has to readjust several times since the man is running, but finally, his finger comes down on the trigger.

The shot rings loudly, since most of the fighting is concentrated on the west side of town, and immediately, the now dead Nazi’s companions whirl around in anger, immediately finding Gale.

Thom was ready though because he immediately opens fire. He manages to take down two of them, and Gale another one, while one of them slips past their fire, Mortar held securely against his chest.

Another shell goes off, this time in a street right behind them, which momentarily throws Thom and Gale off, giving the soldier on the street more than enough time to take a direct shot at them.

For a moment, all Gale can think is how beautiful fire is as it surrounds him.

Then the pain sets in. He swats at the burning timber on him frantically, before rolling around to snuff out any other flame on him. He had luckily been able to avoid severe burns, but the air is so thick with smoke, Gale can hardly breathe.

Coughing, Gale waves a hand in front of his face to clear the smoke some, as he tries to find Thom.

“Gale…” a meek voice calls out, and Gale’s heart stops, when he looks over to see Thom, staring right at him, with a huge wooden beam that had fallen from the roof practically crushing his entire body.

“Thom!” Gale cries, stumbling towards his best friend. “Are you alright?”

“Hurts,” Thom whispers, face glistening in sweat and blood. “Hurts real bad.”

“I got you buddy,” Gale reasurres quickly, as he tries to heave the beam off Thom’s broken body. The fucking thing hardly budges. He tries again, when the sound of the door banging downstairs makes him pause. Seems like the bastard had run out of shells.

“Don’t worry,” Gale says with a tight smile. “I’ll get this off you no problem.”

He tries again, using every bit of strength he has, but the beam only lifts a few inches, and when it comes back down, the sound Thom makes nearly brings Gale to tears.

“I love you,” Thom cries quietly. “I know I never said it before, but you’re like the brother I never had-”

“Shut up!” Gale roars ferociously. “You are _not_ going to die, got it?”

“You’re my best friend,” Thom continues, ignoring Gale as his tears come quicker. “I’m sorry that I have to leave you here alone.”

The sound of wood splintering is heard as the downstairs door, finally gives away, followed by the sound of feet running up the stairs. Reluctantly, Gale picks up his gun and leaves Thom.

The Nazi takes a shot at him before Gale is barely out of the door, but in his haste, miscalculates his aim, and the bullet flies right past his ears.

As if his mind doesn’t even register the ringing pain in his ear., Gale fires three rounds into the Nazis chest. The German falls forward, landing just a few feet from Gale’s feet.

With his boot, Gale nudges the soldier so he’s lying on his back to make sure he’s dead. To his shock, a young boy, probably no older than 16, stares back at him.

He’s pale and shaking and blood is leaking out of his mouth. He raises his tear-filled eyes to Gale’s.

“Danke,” the boy thanks him in a broken voice, before choking on a mouthful of blood.

Gale can still hear him choking and gasping for breath when he returns to Thom. He hates the War. He hates Guns. He hates Blood. He hates Fighting. He hates that he’s seen more people die than be born. He hates that he may just die here too, and never see his loved ones again.

The rage he feels, at the world that surrounds them, fills him with a surge of adrenaline that lets him finally lift the beam off Thom.

“Ok buddy,” Gale says in a voice that he had only ever used with Posy. “I’m gonna go get a medic, and they’re gonna fix you up, ok?”

“Please don’t leave me alone,” Thom begs, reaching up with a burned hand to grab his forearm.

“I’ll be back,” Gale promises, resting his own hand on Thom’s forearm. “And then, when you go home, I’m gonna tell your sister Bristel all about your dirty magazines, and she’s gonna whoop your ass.”

“A-at least tell a busty broad,” Thom smiles weakly through his pain. “So I can enjoy the whoopin’.”

“She’ll be the bustiest,” Gale promises. “Those things’ll be like watermelons. You just need to keep fighting for me, ok?”

“Ok,” Thom answers him, his eyes slowly closing shut.

* * *

“Hey, can you put a can at the end of my bed? I wanna see if I can aim well enough to piss into it.”

Gale just glares at Thom, who grins back from his spot on the hospital bed.

In a night that could only be described as hell, their battalion had been able to take back the small town and were even able to take some of the Germans in as POWs. They were still too small and weak to keep moving, so they set up base in the Town.

Thom had sustained nerve damage in his spine that had rendered him paralyzed from the waist-down. Apparently, immediately after the Doctor told him the news, Thom had demanded total privacy to see if his dick still worked.

“If Richard works, it’s all good,” Thom had told him with a wicked grin, the first time Gale had visited him in the Town Hall-turned hospital. Gale was just glad he took to the news so well. He had great hope that one day his friend would be able to walk again, and if he didn’t, Gale would be there to make sure he never even noticed his legs didn’t work anymore.

“When you have to have your ass wiped by a nurse who looks like she could snap you like a twig, then you’ll know my pain,” Thom mutters, reaching under his pillow to pull out a magazine. “The old hag even stole all my good magazines!”

“You mean the pornos?” Gale rolls his eyes as he swipes his magazine only to thwap him with it. “When are you going home, by the way?”

“Eager to get rid of me, huh?” Thom teases, before his face becomes serious. “Sometime next week, I think.”

Gale nods. “That’s good. I’m sure Delly will be thrilled.”

A dopey grin stretches across Thom’s face. “Yeah,” he sighs happily. “The moment I see her, I’m gonna propose.”

Gale’s eyebrows shoot up at this, he knew that Thom was crazy about Delly, but he also knew Thom was crazy about girls in general, so to hear him excited for a lifetime commitment to one dame is kinda shocking.

“Are you sure?” Gale asks, trying not to sound too incredulous. “I mean, if you’re married, that’ll mean no more porno magazines.”

“Honestly? I don’t even like looking at those anymore,” Thom admits with a shrug of his shoulders. “That night, when the beam was on me, I really thought I was gonna die. It made me realize what was really important to me. Life’s too short to have regrets over things you can control, and I’d be an idiot to string Delly along. She’s it-the one, you know?”

Gale doesn’t know. The one girl he had been in love with since 17 was probably married to a guy he couldn’t stand. But for Thom’s sake, he just smiles. “I’m happy for you, man. Really.”

“You better come home quick,” Thom says seriously. “You’re my best man, and the wedding can’t take place if you aren’t there.”

“Thanks Thom,” Gale has to clear his suddenly thick voice. “I guess someone has to be there to make sure you don’t make an idiot out of yourself.”

“Excuse me,” the doctor, a frazzled looking man pulls back the curtain around Thom’s bed and pokes his head in. “I need to conduct hicheckupup. I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

“See you later,” Gale reaches over and squeezes his shoulder, and Thom winks back. Gale can make out Thom asking the Doctor the same can question. He rolls his eyes. Near death can’t sharpen that idiot.

He walks over to the yellow building he’s staying in, and takes the stairs two at a time. A flurry’s begun to fall, adding a dash of white to the soot covered ground. The starkness of the two colors reminds him of his conversation with Beetee months ago, about black and white things. Life can only exist in the gray, but Gale had been a major asshole, and had shoved Madge into that unforgiving dichotomy of morality, unable to realize the greater meaning to her words, and the kindness behind them.

Thom had been right, life _was_ too short to have regrets, especially the life of a soldier, and he felt plenty of regret over how he had treated Madge. He needed to right things with her, or at least try to.

_Miss. Undersee,_

_Thank you for opening my letter, and giving me a chance to explain myself. God knows I don’t really deserve it._

_I was an idiot. I hadn’t realized what you were trying to say to me, and had assumed the worst. I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t hurt you. I see now that you’re intelligent, more so than anyone else I’ve ever met, and I hope whatever your dream is, it comes true._

_We were ambushed, and my buddy and I nearly died. I keep thinking what would have happened if the wooden beam had fallen on me instead of him. Would I still be here? I guess I’ll never know now. Not that I particularly want to. The point I’m trying to make is, out here, there’s a constant chance I might die, and I just wanted to apologize to you while I still had the chance._

_My hometown is on the banks of the Guyandotte River, our total population is a little under 10,000, and a great Union hero was born there (you should know, little Miss. Yankee)._ _To answer your question, I'm 21. I enrolled in the Army when I was 19, almost 20, and have been here since then._

_I hope to return to my hometown soon. That’s all I want now, to be with my family, nothing more. Thank you for making me realize that. Greed consumes you in the most unexpected ways._

_Sorry again,_

_Gale Hawthorne_

_P.S_

_I hope you write back. As short as it was, I miss our letter exchanges._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't NOT include a fight scene, this IS a war story, after all. This fic may be 5 chapters instead of 4, I haven't decided yet. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed!


	4. Infatuation, and other means of killing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: In the last chapter, I forgot to write in Gale's letter his answer to Madge's inquiry of his age. That's added in now.

_Dear Mr. Hawthorne,_

_There’s nothing to forgive. I had taken a calculated risk when I had sent my last letter to you: you either would have gotten it, or you wouldn’t. The fact that you understood my words without any further prompting from me proves that you’re a man of great intelligence, and kindness._

_I’m so sorry to hear about your friend. Is he alright now? I’ll keep him in my prayers, and you as well. I hope you don’t mine, but I registered to receive a telegram from the Army if anything happens to you- I’d hate to get one._

_I can’t imagine what it must be like, to be in constant fear of your life, and I hope you are able to escape that feeling forever. I’d like to apologize too, it wasn’t right of me to send a letter that could have so easily been interpreted as something it wasn’t, and as you said, you really can’t afford for distractions out there. Moving forward, I’ll make sure my letters only contain the contents of my thoughts, not the secrets of the world._

_That being said, did you know you’re only two years older than me? I find that funny for some reason, maybe because it hasn’t quite registered in my mind that I’m an adult, and then I imagine you, just 21, risking your life everyday somewhere in Europe. I hate how war ages us._

_Sorry! I always stray from the light-hearted topics I initially set off with. Also, I believe I’ve found your hometown. Would you happen to be from Panem, West Virginia? It’s either that, or Peach Creek, but I’m fairly confident in my first answer._

_I’m afraid I’ll have to cut my letter short here, since it’s rather late and the post is sent out in the morning, but I’ll be sure to indulge you in some Philly politics in my next letter. Daddy’s factory too, if you’re interested. Daddy has caught the eye of the NAACP, which has also bought him the scorn of the other Industrialists in the city._

_Greed_ does _consume us in the most unexpected ways, but in my personal experience, I’ve come to realize that our love for those closest to us trumps all that surrounds us in our most desperate moments. I hope you are reunited with your loved ones soon._

_Until next time,_

_Madge Undersee_

_P.S_

_A man shaves several times a day, but still has a beard. Who is this man?_

“What’s that smile for, Hawthorne?” Finnick, his bunk mate, asks.

“Nothing,” Gale says a little quickly, folding Madge’s letter and tucking it in his pocket. “Just a letter from back home.”

“Sweetheart?” Finnick asks coyly, grinning widely. “Why haven’t I heard of her yet?”

“She’s not,” Gale snaps, sliding off his bunk to sit on the floor, where it’s easier to write. “We’ve never even met, ok? She’s just a pen pal.”

“Have you seen a picture of her?” Finnick preses on. When Gale shakes his head, Finnick gapes at him. “Ask for one! For all you know, you could be writing to an old man!”

“Don’t you have some fish to spear?” Gale asks, annoyed. While Finnick was no Thom, the North Carolina native had no problem getting on Gale’s nerves.

It had been a month since Thom had been shipped back, and a lot had changed since then. For starters, their battalion, which had lost nearly half of its personnel, absorbed another unit, and had moved closer to an occupied city. That’s when he had met Finnick, who had quickly become his closest friend in his new battalion.

“You could have just asked for some privacy,” Finnick teases, standing up and leaving the tent, not before making loud smacking noises. Gale sighs in relief once he’s gone.

_Miss. Undersee,_

_Thom is fine. He’s going to be in a wheelchair for maybe forever, but he’s back home and happily engaged. I’m going to the best man at his wedding. And keep him in your prayers, because he’s an idiot, and needs all the help he can get._

_Please don’t apologize. I was the jerk who just assumed the worst of you, without even trying to dig deeper into what you said._

_So you’re 19? That’s a lot younger than I was expecting, if we’re being honest. You talk like a...scholar. Do all rich kids talk like you? How’s a girl like you so young with no lad? Is your Daddy real strict, or something?_

_Your Daddy_ is _ok, right? The NAACP….That’s the National something something for Colored People, right? Is he treating us colored folks decently and everyone suddenly wants to whoop him? Oh, I just realized I never told you: My Pa was a full blooded Cherokee Indian (though there’s speculation of some Arab blood mixed in, if tribal records are to be believed), and Ma is half Shawnee, half Irish. Ma’s family moved down to Logan County from Charleston, since it was smaller and they figured folks there would know each other well enough, that there wouldn’t be room for hate. They were right, mostly. Half of Panem’s population are Indians that decided there wasn’t enough work in the Res, and settled in town. The whites of the town are definitely better off than the Indians, Blacks, and Chinese folks down there combined, but no one brings anything up. That’s part of the reason why I wanna high-tail it outta there, I wanna live on a street where there’s someone of every color, and we all have the same paycheck. Something like that._

_I don’t think I’ve ever written a letter this long before. Thanks for forgiving me so easily, I’ll make it up, promise._

_I can’t think of an answer to your riddle, though it did remind me of my Ma. I think she’s said “go shave” more than she’s said my own name to me._

_Have a nice day_

_-Gale Hawthorne_

Gale cringes as he re-reads his letter. _Have a nice day_? What was this, middle school? Sighing, he folds it and puts it in an envelope. He never claimed to have a way with words, and this was the best he can do, especially since Finnick put that stupid idea of asking for a photo. He can’t just ask for one….even if he really wants to.

Besides, this letter is a test of his own: he knows for a fact that Madge is a white girl, and how she responds to his heritage, and the racial tensions in his town will tell him all he needs to know about her.

He already knows she’s smart, compassionate, and ambitious, but are these traits backed by morals he finds absolutely necessary for a person to have?

He doesn’t stop to wonder why he’s so anxious to know the answer when he mails out the letter. She’s just a stranger, but somehow, she isn’t.

* * *

As the weather begins to warm, both the flowers and Gale’s relationship with Madge begins to bloom.

He has yet to know what she looks like, and so his dreams take on an odd phenomenon where her handwriting, loopy and elegant, is the protagonist. Perhaps it isn’t so odd, because it is her words that begin to paint a picture of a world he never once even stopped to consider. She not only passed his test, but completely rewrites the answer key.

Though she had insisted that she would only write about light-hearted, frivolous topics, Gale had practically begged her to share with him her observations of the quickly changing world around them. And so Madge wrote, in code, or deeply layered, about a world where people wake up and realize that whatever differences they think exist between them, were either created, or are maintained by a few men in suits that wish to keep everyone fighting amongst themselves, leaving all the wealth and power for them.

She tells him about the IWW meetings she goes to in secret, how her Daddy might get booted by the Board of Directors for giving Black women the same wages as white women, and how the children back home are growing more and more comfortable with the mentions of violence abroad.  She makes him realize that the life he had always envisioned with Katniss was a dead end. It was nothing like the world Madge made him imagine. A world he now craves.

Gale writes back everything he sees here, and the toll it takes on him. He doesn’t dare mention any of this to his family, not wanting them to worry, and he doesn’t want to remind Thom everything he’s escaped. But with Madge, it’s easy. With her, he’s able to preserve his anonymity, while at the same time, exposing his very being. Pretty soon, Madge knows nearly everything there is to know about Gale, excluding Katniss. He doesn’t know why, but he’s too embarrassed to tell Madge about his romantic failure. Instead, he writes to her that he was the chief tactician in coming up with a plan to seize the small city they were 10 miles south of. He writes about how General Abernathy is wholly impressed with him.  

* * *

He’s on his way to mess hall. Once he’s done eating, he’s gonna gather his guts, and finally ask Madge to send a picture, because the truth is, he’s infatuated with her, and he needs to put a face to his feelings, for the sake of his own sanity.

He’s able to do none of that- because at that moment, he hears a shout, and then a grenade lands two feet from him.

Spring, after all, can never stick around for too long. Not while War still sings its song of death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NO HE'S NOT DEAD. A spoiler for the next chapter: What did Madge say she was training to become? ;)


	5. Like Hell, almost Romantic

The pain is unending. His body is burned and broken, and with each passing day, his spirit grows more and more anxious.

Why hadn’t Madge written back to him?

Confined to his bed in the hospital, he’s done nothing but think, over and over again, about anything in his last letter that could have possibly offended her, but draws up short each time. The most forward thing he had written was that she should just call him Gale now, since Mr. Hawthorne made him feel old.

Could she really be angry over something so small? Sure, he knew she was rather traditional, but she could have just said no, instead of cutting ties altogether!

“Ready to go Hawthorne?” A middle-aged nurse asks him stiffly. It’s no secret she despises him, and the feeling is more than mutual.

Instead of answering, Gale just grunts, and lies there awkwardly as two soldiers pick up his cot to take him outside to the awaiting truck. Why he couldn’t be airlifted, he had no idea, but he was glad to get to the coast, maybe being around the sea would calm his frayed nerves.

It had been two weeks since the German counter-attack, and they had nearly lost their hold on the city. After the grenade had gone off, Gale had woken in the hospital with three broken ribs, and a handful of burns. Gale couldn’t sit in during the strategizing meetings anymore, so he had no idea why the entire platoon was moving to the coast

He was loaded into the truck alongside the other wounded men, and then had to lie through what was the bumpiest ride of his life.

Needless to say, he was more than cranky, when two hours later, the truck finally pulled to a stop.

He could hear the bustling of camp being set up once more as he waited to be carried in, and wished for the millionth time that his ribs were healed enough for him to walk around. He hated being treated like an invalid. He felt a surge of empathy of Thom.

Finally, his cot was carried in, and he was settled into a corner of a large hall, away from the more contagious patients, and, to his delight, right by large windows that gave him a beautiful view of the beach just a mile down from them. Maybe if he focused on the blue waters enough, he could forget where he was.

“Enjoying the view?” A haughty voice asks him. He looks over to find the same nurse staring down at him. Before he can answer, he realizes that she’s not alone.

Standing beside her is a young girl- _woman;_  blonde, tiny, and extremely pretty. Even in her drab nurse uniform, and hair tied into a bun and covered with a cap, she immediately looks out of place. She looks like she should be on one of Thom’s pin-up posters, not in a remote French town in the midst of a World War.

The young nurse hasn’t noticed him yet, she’s carrying rolls of bandages that she sets on the table beside him, but when she finally looks up to him, her blue eyes widen.

“Here’s his case file,” the older nurse grunts, handing the young nurse a clipboard, taking her attention away from him. “He’s your problem now.”

Gale just scoffs at the woman’s words, before glancing back at the young nurse. It’s crazy, really, how pretty she is. Suddenly, she laughs, and he swears, the sound sells like fucking Church bells.

“Well Mr. Hawthorne, as Nurse Bertha said, I’m going to be your nurse during your stay in the hospital,” the young nurse says in an airy, almost silvery voice. For some reason, she looks extremely amused, and she’s looking at him as if he’s just said a hilarious joke. He self-consciously runs a hand across his jaw-maybe he has dirt on his face?

“Are you in any pain?” Nurse Pin Up asks in concern, leaning forward just a bit to look at him closer.

“No,” Gale grunts, looking away from her and to the window. Madge may be ignoring him, but once Gale sets his heart on a girl, he doesn’t stray. It was only after Thom’s confirmation that Katniss was indeed engaged when he finally allowed himself to pin after Madge. Pin Up Nurse was pretty, no doubt, but he wouldn’t be tempted away from his sweetheart.

“Alright,” Gale nearly sneers at her disappointed tone. What was she expecting, to play doctor with him like he was some lab specimen? “I’ll change your bandages once I’ve made my rounds, if that’s ok with you?”

Gale just shrugs, still not looking at her. He hears her footsteps walk fade away, and he drops his head onto his pillow with a sigh. Maybe Madge was in trouble. She had said that her Daddy had been stirring up trouble in Philly with his “equal wages for equal work” theory. Gale is suddenly seized with fear- was Madge ok?

“Nurse!” Gale barks, trying to control his breathing as he begins to hyperventilate. He shuts his eyes tightly as he sees Cato’s dead face, the beam on Thom, the dead Nazi kid, and the countless other deaths he’s seen in his short life. Madge has to be ok, she _has_ to be ok.

“Mr. Hawthorne!” suddenly warm hands are on either side of his face, forcing him to look up to meet the terrified eyes on Pin Up Nurse. “What’s wrong?”

Gale violently jerks away from her hands, unnerved at how soft they were. Hadn’t she gone through basic training at the Army Corps? “I need to see my mail, now.”

Her eyes grow from scared to confused. “I’ll finish my rounds in about 20 minutes, can you wait till then?”

He can’t, but he doesn’t have many options, so he just glares at her. “Make it quick.”

Pin Up Nurse smiles tightly at him. He’s pretty sure they’re not allowed to wear makeup, so he’s genuinely curious how her skin can be totally flawless and rosy. Maybe she sucked off a higher up and got her makeup smuggled in. She certainly had the lips for the job, nice and plump.

She turns around, and this time Gale’s eyes drop lower, before quickly snapping away. He can think all the terrible thoughts of her that he wants, it won’t change the fact that with every second he stares at her, he grows more and more attracted. Maybe Madge was better off without him…

A full 25 minutes later (there’s a clock right across his bed) Pin Up Nurse finally arrives, with his letters in her hands. His hands are still bandaged, so she sits on the chair besides him and begins reading to him who’s mailed him what.

“Hazelle and Posy Hawthorne,” she reads off the envelope. She looks up at him and gives him a sweet smile. “Let me guess...Mom and sister?”

Gale frowns, but then lets it go. It wasn’t that hard of a thing to guess. “Yeah. Next letter.”

“Vick and Rory Hawthorne,” Pin Up reads the next envelope. “Brothers?”

What the hell was going on here? “Do you know my family?” Gale snaps, more than a little disconcerted.

Pin Up raises a brown eyebrow. “Not personally, no.”

“Just read who’s the next letter from,” Gale growls. He’s just jittery over his worries for Madge.

“Thom Bryne,” Pin Up reads dutifully. “Friend?”

Gale doesn’t answer, just stares glumly at the pile of envelopes. There aren’t anymore letters. Another week, and no word from Madge.

“Were you expecting a letter from someone?” Pin Up asks casually, opening the seal of Ma’s letter and holding it out in front of him so he can read it.

“Yes,” Gale tells her icily. “From the girl I love, actually.”

“Oh,” Pin Up says quietly. Gale glances at her and sees her face is suddenly closed off and distant. Was Pin Up _jealous_?

Neither of them say anything more as Gale reads through the rest of his letters, and he can’t help but feel slightly awkward. Pin Up seemed almost deflated, so unlike his initial impression of her. Was she really that put off that he was in love with another girl? Well too bad for her then, he was totally off the market.

“I’ll need to change your bandages now,” Pin Up says gently, standing up and placing his now-read letters besides him. Gale keeps his gaze trained resolutely on the ceiling above him as she undoes the buttons of his shirt.

“Oh Ga-Mr. Hawthrone,” Pin Up sighs, and Gale is shocked to find that her bright blue eyes are suddenly brighter with tears. Was this broad so inexperienced a few burns made her cry?

“I’m fine,” Gale says gruffly, not sure what to make of her extreme reaction to his wounds. Besides his Ma, he’s never had a girl cry for him. Maybe _over_ him, or because of something the did, but never anything like this. “It’s more of a nuisance, than anything.”

“Yeah,” Pin up sniffs, rubbing her eyes with the back of her arm as she gives him a tiny smile.

Pin Up doesn’t speak again until she’s done poking around with him. Truthfully, the entire ordeal had been an exercise in restraint, the feel of her soft hands on his bare chest nearly short circuited his brains, and he was both glad and disappointed it was all over.

“Rest up now Mr. Hawthorne, you have your family and your sweetheart back home waiting for you,” Pin Up says faux sternness. “We can’t have you moping around here, now can we?”

Gale just huffs and ignores her. As if he doesn’t know all of this. Must be more air than brains in that blonde head of hers.

* * *

The weather grows warmer, and the inside of the hospital, stuffier. Gale tries to reason this is why watching all the men flirt with Pin Up Nurse like she’s fucking Marlene Dietrich herself puts him in a bad mood.

She’s a test, he reasons. A divine test, to see if he’s worthy of Madge’s love. He’ll go back home, take a train to Philly, and tell her how faithful he’d been to her. But then, Pin Up will bend over, or her breasts will brush against his arm, and he’d reconsider his logic. There’s no way a creature of God could have such an innocent face, and tantalizing body. He remains steadfast, though, in his wait for Madge’s letter. She couldn’t have forgotten about him. She _couldn’t._

He’s sitting up and eating a bowl of porridge for breakfast, with Pin Up besides him, even though he insists he doesn’t need any assistance, when General Abernathy pays them all a visit. Almost instantly, the men quiet down and try to look as dignified as they can as the General walks past them.

“Hawthorne,” Abernathy greets once he reaches the foot of his bed. Gale puts his bowl down to salute, only to be waved off. “I’ve heard word that you may discharged soon.”

“Yes sir,” Gale confirms. If it all goes well, he should be out of here in two weeks.

Abernathy nods. “You should a hellofa potential this spring, when we we strategizing how to take back that City. Whatever the hell the French call it.”

Gale says nothing, just watches the General apprehensively, waiting for him to continue.

“I’ve processed your papers, you can be honorably discharged as soon as you’re all patched up,” Abernathy informs him. “Or you can stay, and be promoted to First Lieutenant. God knows we need more men like you over here.”

“Well, that’s,” Gale splutters, unbelieving what he’s hearing. Almost instantly, his mind begins running the numbers of a Lieutenant salary. He could pay off Ma’s mortgage, send the kids to college, give Posy a- his frenzied thoughts are cut off by Pin Up’s light voice.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Pin Up says politely. “But you _are_ General Haymitch Abernathy, correct?”

Abernathy looks over to Pin Up for the first time since he’s entered the hospital, and his eyes widen in something that looks like...recognition?

“That’s me,” he says, almost disbelievingly.

“My Daddy’s said great things about you,” Pin Up tells him with a beautiful smile. “You were acquainted with my late Aunt, were you not?”

“I was,” Abernathy says, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe at his forehead. “So your May’s niece, huh? What’s your name sweetheart?”

“Margaret,” Pin Up answers easily. “But everyone calls me Madge.”

“What?” Gale shouts, startling Abernathy. Madge just turns and looks at him expectantly. “ _Madge?”_

“Give me an answer by the week’s end, boy,” Abernathy cuts in suddenly, sensing the tension in the air. “And Madge, feel free to drop by my office, whenever.”

“I’ll be sure to take you up on that offer General,” Madge says politely, looking back at Abernathy. “If you’ll excuse us…”

“Yes, of course,” Abernathy quickly walks away.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Gale hisses, face burning. All this time, he’s been acting like a tool around her, all because she wanted a little laugh at his expense?

“Well, almost immediately you seemed to hate me, and then you were rather occupied with your sweetheart, so I thought I’d be best to tell you when you were in a better place,” Madge explains, playing with the hem of her skirt. “I’m sorry Gale, I just wanted the timing to be right.”

At the sound of his name in her mouth, all his anger disappears. How can he be mad, when the prettiest girl he’s ever met is the same one he’s fallen in love with?

“There’s nothing to forgive,” Gale quotes, smirking when she looks up in realization. “You have no idea how happy I am, to finally meet you.”

“Me too,” Madge smiles at him, shyly tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and at that moment, Gale nearly _swoons_ , which he knows, is fucking ridiculous for a man his age. “The situation is less than ideal, but it makes me happy, looking after you.”

It’s a good thing his ribs punctured a few organs of his, because if he was able bodied in that moment, he would have ravaged her right then and there.

“Can you sneak out and visit me tonight?” Gale asks urgently. “There’s so much I need to tell you.”

Madge looks first surprised, then delighted at his request. “Sir yes sir.”

* * *

Gale doesn’t even _think_ about sleeping, as the sun lowers into the sky and the shadows lengthen. Tonight, he’ll finally tell Madge how much he loves her. A part of him is absolutely giddy at the thought of her returning his feelings, and many hours are spent of him just daydreaming what it must feel like kissing her. Goddamn if she isn’t a looker.

The other part of him is totally seized with fear. What if she rejects him? While she’s proven she doesn’t care about money or color, those two factors _do_ exist, and neither odds are in his favor. Even if they were, Madge is still totally out of his league. She’s gorgeous, kind, and intelligent, and there must be hounds of men back in Philly salivating at her feet, as much as she tries to deny it.

The curtains that provide him some privacy are pulled back, and there stands Madge, still in uniform, with a small flashlight in her hand.

“Sorry I took so long,” Madge apologizes as she switches the light off, and comes over to turn on the lantern besides him. “Everyone went to bed just an hour ago, and I had to stay back and make sure everyone was actually asleep.”

“It’s fine,” Gale dismisses quickly. “Come here.”

It’s outrageously forward, patting the spot beside him, but Madge just smiles at him, and settles onto the bed, though to his disappointment, her back is to him, instead of lying side by side with him. His skin practically burns with the need to feel as much of her pressed up against him.

“Have you thought about General Abernathy’s offer?” Madge asks, swinging her short legs that hang off the bed’s edge.

“No,” Gale answers truthfully. He had actually totally forgotten about it. “I’m going home after this.”

“Oh thank God!” Madge exclaims quietly, visibly deflating in relief. “You had no idea how worried I was that you’d take up the offer. Have you heard the rumors?”

Gale frowns. “What rumors?”

“Word around camp is that the Allied Forces are planning a full scale invasion to take back the mainland from the Germans. That’s why the U.S has slowly been securing port cities like this one, so the docking can be smoother.”

“Fuck,” Gale mutters under his breath as his eyes widen. “That’s gonna be a bloodbath.”

“I know,” Madge says sadly. “I’ll do my best to save as many lives as I can, but there’s only so much a nurse can do.”

“You’re not thinking about staying, are you?” Gale demands indignantly. He reaches forward and grabs her arm. “Madge, please tell me you aren’t.”

Madge sighs and gently lays a hand on top of his hand that grips her fearfully. “I am, Gale. It’s what I signed up to do.”

“Madge you have no idea how bad it can get, and how quickly,” Gale practically begs. “Think about your Daddy!” Think about _Gale_.

“Daddy respects my decision,” Madge frowns, pulling her arm from his hold. “And I thought after everything, you would too.”

“I love you!” Gale blurts, not even caring how terribly timed this all is. “And I can’t lose you, not before I’ve even had a chance with you!”

Madge covers her gaping mouth with both hands as she stares at him. In the warm light of the lantern, he can make out the rosy blush that spreads across her creamy skin.

“But...what about your sweetheart back home?” Madge asks in a high voice.

“I thought you were still in the States,” Gale explains. “You were the girl who I was waiting for a letter from. And I acted like a dick to you, because I was trying to, funnily enough, stay loyal to you.”

It hurts a little, when Madge launches herself at him, but he honestly can’t complain, not when she kisses him like he’s air, and she’s at the bottom of the ocean. Maybe Madge isn’t as traditional as he thought her to be, because she practically crawls into his lap. Gale encourages her actions by pulling her closer, his one hand loosening her bun, and the other, slowly sliding down her back until it’s on the ass that’s taunted him since he first saw her, pulling her flush to him.

Madge finally pulls back, heaving chest pushed deliciously into his, and tries to climb off. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what got into me, I shouldn’t have-”

Gale cuts off her rambling by bringing his arms around her torso and locking her in his embrace.

“Never,” he chuckles, pressing an open mouthed kiss to her neck, earning a sharp gasp from her. “Apologize for kissing me.”

“Alright,” Madge giggles nervously, but pushes back all the same. “But can I sit properly? I’d rather not say I love you while in your lap.”

“You just did,” Gale says delightedly, pulling her in for another kiss. This time his tongue makes his way into her mouth, relishing in how she tastes. When Madge finally moves away from him when he begins to suck on her tongue, and hastily straightens her frumpled uniform, and pulls her hair completely out her bun to redo it. Her hair is wavy. He hadn’t known that. In just one moment, she had managed to do the impossible, and become even more attractive.

“As I was trying to say,” Madge says once she’s composed. She sits at a respectable distance from him at the foot of his bed, face flushed from their kisses. “I love you too, Gale. Really I do. When I read your name on the clipboard, I swear my heart nearly beat out of my chest. To think, the fellow I had been falling for, looked like a movie star.”

“But then you told me you were in love with a girl, and my resolve to introduce myself just fell through completely,” Madge tells him sadly. Gale wishes he could go back and beat his past self up.

“I never would have imagined that girl was me,” Madge admits shyly. Gale laughs throatily at her admission.

“Dollface, have you looked into a mirror?” Gale chortles. “You’re a goddamn looker. Nearly had a conniption every time you touched me.”’

“So,” Madge says slyly, running a coy hand along the inside of his calf. “My touch doesn’t give you a conniption anymore.”

“That’s not fair,” Gale pouts. “You can’t tease a wounded man. Don’t they teach you that in Nursing school?”

“One of our first rules is not to suck any soldiers face,” Madge giggles, covering her blushing face with her hands. “Might as well throw out the entire rulebook now.”

“We can be so happy together, Dollface,” Gale says in a quiet voice, watching her with so much _want_ that it actually physically ached him. “Please come back home with me.”

“Oh Gale,” Madge sighs, uncovering her face. “Just like you saw out your duties, I need to do the same with mine. Won’t you wait for me?”

“I’ll wait a hundred years, Madge!” Gale retorts angrily. “But not if you’re in severe danger!”

“I won’t be in the field,” Madge placates, crawling up the bed so she can tuck herself into his side. This must be a manipulation tactic, because the combination of her scent and feel calms Gale down. “Just think, in a few months, God willing, Europe will be liberated, and I’ll be in America with you, as your wife.”

Gale stares at her in surprise. Had she just proposed to him?

Madge must have realized her own words, because she sits straight up and covers her face again. “Oh God, I hadn’t meant to say that aloud I just-”

Gale reaches up and pulls her hands down, revealing a very embarrassed Madge. She bites her lip and keeps her gaze resolutely trained on the ground. Gale’s chest fills with a warm feeling, as if she’s poured honey into his heart.

“I’ll wait for you,” Gale promises her, bringing up both her hands to kiss. “But only if you promise to come back and be my wife.”

Madge gently pulls her hands from his, and undoes the top button of his shirt, like she’s done so many times before, but this time, instead of unbuttoning the next button, she pulls apart the shirt a bit to expose his chest.

Leaning forward, she presses a kiss right above where his heart beats. “I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is the epilogue


	6. Epilogue

 

“David!” Gale greets his father-in-law both warmly, and in surprise. “What brings you around?”

“Just wanted to make sure you boys were closing early, as promised,” David chuckles, walking over to give Gale’s hand a quick pump. “Plus, I was getting a bit stir crazy, watching all those Christmas specials.”

“You know the invitation to tonight’s dinner is still open,” Gale reminds him with a frown. “I don’t know why you won’t come.”

“Because then the kids will be more excited to open gifts with Grandpa!” David chuckles. It had been a tradition since the birth of his first baby that Christmas Eve would be spent with Gale’s side of the family, and Christmas day with David.

“Hey there Mr. Undersee,” Thom greets with a large grin as he rolls out of the employee room and back into the main lobby. “Last minute fix?”

“On the contrary, I’m here to shoo you boys out!” David scolds good-naturedly. “Both of you, get out of here, I’ll close up.”

“You don’t have to do-”

“Go freshen up,” David waves him off. “The kids must be waiting for you.”

Unable to argue with that, both Thom and Gale gave their goodbyes to the older man and went outside. Had anyone told Gale five years ago that he’d be opening up his own car workshop in a small town in Southern California with his father-in-law as the main investor, and his best friend the co-owner, he would have assumed he was hit with some German gas that did funky things to your brain.

As always, Gale stands by as Thom hoists himself into his truck, and folds his wheelchair and puts it in the back. That had been Gale’s wedding present to Thom: a system of hand controlled gears that could let him drive again. Thom may have never gotten mobility in his legs back, but the hug he had given Gale had nearly crushed his ribs all over again.

“Tell the kids Uncle Thom says hi,” Thom says, leaning slightly out the window to get a look at him. “And give sweet Miss. Madge a big old kiss from me.”

“She’s no Miss no more,” Gale says smugly. “And I’ll give her a kiss, but not from you.”

“Stick in the mud,” Thom mutters, though he’s smiling. “Merry Christmas, Gale.”

“You too,” Gale wishes back, climbing into his own truck. “Be sure to bring Delly and the kids around soon, yeah?”

“You couldn’t keep me away even if you tried!”

The ride home is short and pleasant. Even though it’s the day before Christmas, the temperature is in the high 60’s, and Gale is able to keep the window down as he drives through the quiet town, the mountains on his one side, and the warm pacific on another.

As he pulls into the driveway of his home, he can’t help but admire how nicely the red decorations contrast against the olive green of the house. The palm tree in the yard is strung up with lights, but there’s still too much sunlight out to see them glowing. He kills the ignition, and makes his way into the house.

Madge unfortunately landed the Christmas Eve shift this year, but that meant she’d be free tomorrow at least. He glanced down at his watch. Two more hours till she got home, and then they’d head over to Ma’s place.

When he had been sent back home from France, he had taken a train up to Philly to check up on Madge’s dad, per her request, and found the man in a rather sad state. He had been kicked by the board of directors, and found himself alone in a too large house, waiting for his only daughter to come home from a terrible war, with no distractions.

It had been David’s idea to move out west. Something about market trends. Gale had initially refused his investment offer- it had sounded more like a charity donation than a business expenditure, but David had persisted, and finally, the hope of giving his family an actual future outside of Panem won him over.

The summer of 45 had been one of almost sheer torture, as he waited for Madge’s return and _finally_ end. Then, one late afternoon on a windy August day, she had returned, and their new life together had finally begun.

As Gale climbs the stairs, he gazes lovingly at the frames that adorn the wall. Most of them are of their 3 children, then there are some of Ma and his siblings, and a few of Madge and her parents. His favorite, though, is at the very top. He’s holding Madge, and she’s holding their son, just a few months old. Their daughters smile widely at camera from where they’re perched atop his shoulders. If being a soldier was what made him strong enough to carry his entire family, then every dead man he saw, and ever man he made dead was worth it.

After a quick shower, he walks into his and Madge’s closet to look for what to wear. After trifling around, he fails to find the specific tie he’s looking for. WIth a sigh, he drops to his knees, and begins rummaging through the boxes on the ground, hoping one of them house the missing tie.

He pulls out a box stuffed all the way back in the corner, and frowns at how old the cardboard looks. Pulling off the lid, he grins widely when he recognizes its contents: their old letters.

There are two tightly bounded stacks, his letters and hers. Already knowing what he’s written, he doesn’t bother unbinding that stack, and instead begins leafing through the words she wrote to him all those years ago. As if transported, he’s once more 21 in the French countryside, not knowing if he’ll live or die, but happy as hell to have gotten a letter from his gal.

He tries to pace himself, but all too soon, he’s reached the last letter, but as he unfolds it, he frowns. He doesn’t remember ever receiving said letter, but reads to make sure anyways.

_Dear Gale,_

_Oh dear, if just_ writing _that turns me into a blushing mess, I can only imagine what will happen to me if I ever say the word aloud to you!_

_I’ve just received word from the Army Corps: I’m being deployed day after tomorrow. And guess what? I’m being sent to you. Do you believe in fate, Gale? Because I’m beginning to believe something much bigger than the war is what matched us to each other._

_I’m being silly, I know. I won’t send out this letter-I can’t. How can I? For all I know, you have a sweetheart waiting for you back in Panem. I wish I was brave enough to tell you how much I love you. I know, I know. I haven’t even_ seen _you, not even a picture, but it doesn’t matter to me. I know your soul. I know what makes you_ you _, and that’s who I love. All I think about is you. My head is filled with endless daydreams of us together. What spell have you me under?_

_Maybe when we meet, my eyes will look into yours, and we’ll know that we belong together._

_Loving you has humbled me, Gale. It’s taught me that the world is greater than what I see in Philadelphia. You’ve taught me the nobility of taking care of family. Of moving forward when you want nothing more than to collapse in the cold dirt and close your eyes forever. Every letter you’ve written to me is precious, and I don’t think I’ll ever forget you. I hope you fight on, through every battle, whether on the battlefield or in your mind, and come out a champion. Because your life is too precious for any part of you to be lost._

_If the universe is kind, it will allow you have some part in my life. The bigger the better, ideally, but I realize that’s asking for too much. Oh, I just wish to be taken to the night we meet!_

_Wait for me. I’m coming._

_All my love,_

_Madge Undersee_

_P.S_

_What’s blonde, short, and loves you all over?_

_(Hint: Me)_

“Gale?”

Gale drops the letter in surprise, and looks up to find Madge, still in her nurse uniform, staring at him with a slight frown.

“What are you reading?” Madge asks softly. “You normally hear the door.”

“This,” Gale answers with a smirk, holding up her letter for her to see. Immediately, Madge recognizes it, and flushes.

“You weren’t supposed to read it!” she exclaims, making a lunge for it, only to end up in his lap, with the letter held far from her.

“Why not?” Gale asks teasingly, holding her in place as she tries to squirm to where the letter is, pressing kisses onto her cheek. “I think it’s my favorite.”

“It’s embarrassing!” Madge whines, giving up on trying to grab it from him. “I sounded like an infatuated schoolgirl.”

“Weren’t you?” Gale asks wolfishly. Madge just groans and buries her face in the juncture between his neck and shoulder. He chuckles, and lifts them both up, walking out of the closet to gently deposit her on their bed, before settling on top off her.

“Gale!” Madge admonishes as she giggles. “You’ll wrinkle your shirt!”

“I love you,” Gale murmurs, ignoring her observation to stare into her endlessly blue eyes. “You saved my life. In more than one way.”

Madge stops squirming, and brings up both hands to cup his face. He turns his face so that he can press a kiss onto her palm.

“I love you too,” Madge tells him sweetly, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. “You, our beautiful babies, your family...all of it, has made me happier than I thought was possible.”

“I used to hate fate,” Gale tells her. “I felt like, like a pawn in the game of life. But then...” he trails off as he thinks about all those past years they’ve spent together.

“Then what?” Madge asks curiously.

“It matched me to you.”

END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I hope that was a somewhat satisfying of an ending. Happy Holidays!

**Author's Note:**

> Just a fun little historical AU i wanted to try my hand at. Hope you enjoyed!!


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